"Never mind; it may be only fancy on my part after all." Jack wanted to get to his books that evening, but I dissuaded him.
"It can do no good," said I, "and it may just muddle you for to-morrow.
Take an easy evening now, and go to bed early.

You'll be all the fresher for it to-morrow." So, instead of study, we fell-to talking, and somehow got on to the subject of the home at Packworth.
"By the way, Fred," said Jack, "I got a letter from you the other day." "From me ?" I cried; "I haven't written to you for months." "It _was_ from you, though, but it had been a good time on the road, for it was written from Stonebridge House just after I had left." "What! the letter you never called for at the post-office ?" "The letter you addressed to `J.' instead of `T.' my boy; But I'm glad to have it now.

It is most interesting." "But however did you come by it ?" I asked.
"If you will stop runaway horses when your hands are full you must expect to lose things.

This letter was picked up by Mrs Shield after that little adventure, and only came to light out of the lining of her bag last week.

She remembered seeing it lying on the road, she says, and picking it up, along with Mary's shawl and handkerchief, which had also fallen.